


Chagrin for three

by firecrackerx



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:51:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3741487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecrackerx/pseuds/firecrackerx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LaFontaine did not hate Mrs. Baines. Hate was too strong a feeling for such a silent neighbor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chagrin for three

LaFontaine did not hate Mrs. Baines. Hate was too strong a feeling for such a silent neighbor. The Baines lived in the flat above Perry and LaFontaine’s and had never been cause of complaint, not even for Perry, who usually slept at full alert. Mrs. Baines was the kind of woman who asked you about work in the elevator and worried about the evolutions of your health when you had a cold. She was in her early forties, but looked younger and moved briskly and efficiently, radiating assertiveness. That’s life for you, sweetie, she would say with a smile every time someone complained. LaFontaine did not hate Mrs. Baines. Sometimes, though...

 

“Mrs. Baines, can I have a word?”

LaFontaine had tracked the woman to the row of mailboxes on the ground floor after asking about her whereabouts to her husband, clutching the Christmas card in one hand. He had told them she had gone to fetch the mail after shaking their hand and wishing them a happy holiday; LaFontaine had answered awkwardly, surprised by his enthusiasm and still half asleep. It was too early for a Saturday and they just wanted to go back home, curl up on the couch and watch cartoons all morning after the long week working at the laboratory. But they would not, not until they settled this matter, or tried to.

Mrs. Baines turned around, rummaging in her pocket for the key to the mailbox:

“Of course! How can I help you?”

“Mrs. Baines, I really appreciate that you sent us a card…”

“Oh, it’s nothing, it’s just the thing to do…”

“No, wait, please” LaFontaine held the Christmas card up. “You wrote Miss LaFontaine. Again. We’ve talked about this, several times…”

Mrs. Baines was smiling. A little smile, almost affectionate, and LaFontaine did not hate her, but they wished they didn’t have to deal with her, ever again.

“Should I have written mister, then?”

“No, that’s not the…”

“I know it’s not the case, you’ve told me before. But one has to write something, sweetie. I am a very open-minded person, you know it. I think it’s perfectly right for you and Miss Perry to live together if you love each other, I do. But there are limits to the things people can do, you will realize at some point, too,” she said, forcefully trying to turn the key and open the mailbox without success.

LaFontaine took a deep breath and closed their eyes. They probably mean well, they repeated in their mind once and again. Patience.

“Please, Mrs. Baines, this is really important for me. Try to understand.”

“I do understand,” she said giving the key a little shake. “You are young, you will see how complicated you are making things for yourself. Man or woman, there’s simply no other option. I am very progressive, but this is simply a matter of nature. That’s life for you, sweetie.”

Before LaFontaine could answer, Mrs. Baines let out a little yelp. She stood, puzzled, with half the key in her hand, the other half embedded deep in the mailbox keyhole.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” she moaned, turning around and pushing the elevator’s button. 

LaFontaine sighed and joined her in front of the elevator, shoving the card in their pocket and crumpling it in their first. They did not want to fight with Mrs. Baines anymore. The woman’s stubbornness and misguided attempts at redirecting their life drained their energy.

“What is wrong with the elevator?” she murmured, practically fuming. After pushing the button a few more times, she said goodbye to LaFontaine briskly and started climbing up the stairs. LaFontaine stood in the liquid silence of the Saturday morning for a few seconds, eyes narrowing. They pushed the elevator’s button; it opened in front of them almost immediately.

 

They walked into the warmth of their home and threw the Christmas card on the kitchen counter. Perry was already up, grading exams on the couch in one of LaFontaine’s sleeping shirts, a blanket over her legs and red curls escaping the messy bun on top of her head. She was wearing her newly prescribed reading glasses, and LaFontaine loved how they made her look different and the same all at once. Above their heads they heard Mrs. Baines closing the front door and heels clicking with each step. Perry wrote something in one of the exams:

“Did you speak with Mrs. Baines?”

“Yes.”

LaFontaine bit their lower lip, trying to stay serious. Perry kept working, but they knew her attention had shifted towards them.

“Perr.”

“Yes?” she said, not looking up.

“We’ve talked about this. You can’t curse everybody who decides to misgender me.”

She finally looked up. Somewhere above them there was a sudden sharp sound like water rushing out from a pipe and a muffled shriek. Perry’s eyes were big with blue innocence:

“That’s life for you, sweetie.”


End file.
